


let me hold your hand (oh, my sweet love)

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The date, like all weird things in Hajime’s life, is Tooru’s idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me hold your hand (oh, my sweet love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tookumade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/gifts).



> title from the shinee song 'wowowow'. thanks to m and j for helping me through this !! ;A; what would i be without the help of my friends omg

“Hurry up,” Hajime yells, frowning up at the closed door of Tooru’s room. It’s the first left door from the staircase, a place as familiar as his own. “It’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up, Iwa-chan,” comes the instant reply, Tooru’s voice muffled by the door. “I’m making myself even more handsome for you!” And when he opens the door, it’s kind of true. (Tooru is the kind of heart-stoppingly handsome only a handful of times, when he’s in movement on the court and when he is vulnerably honest.) “Ta-da!”

“You look exactly the same as yesterday.” Hajime is already turning to drag Tooru down the stairs and toward the dining table, breakfast laid out for two. Tooru’s mother must have already whisked away the other dishes. “Eat.”

Tooru sighs, blowing his hair out of his face, and takes a seat next to Hajime. He scoots all of his bowls and chopsticks over, picking at his food like Hajime won’t eat it. “Get your own,” he scowls, dueling chopsticks over rice, but he’s grinning while he does it.

It’ll be a good day. 

 

The date, like all weird things in Hajime’s life, is Tooru’s idea. He chalks it up next to ‘hunting aliens’ at the age of five and ‘volleyball practice’ when they’re older. Tooru has tripped on too many tree roots in the dark and gotten hit in the head with too many volleyballs--there is no way that they don’t spend enough time together. 

“It’s nice, being together like this,” Tooru smiles, eyes curving up with mirth, and it’s hard for Hajime to disagree. He walks a pace behind Tooru out of habit, hands in his pockets as Tooru hums lightly. His hand inches back, subtly toward Hajime’s, and he can feel the calluses on Tooru’s fingers where he’d only felt air before. “Let’s go like this.”

It is kind of nice. Hajime fights down a rising pink flush at the sight, Tooru’s fingers linked with his, intimate and familiar. He stares down at their hands, Tooru’s response already immediate in his head if he refuses ( _Iwa-chan, what’s wrong with a little hand-holding between boyfriends_ ) and shrugs, “Sure. Yeah. Okay.”

“Yay!” And Tooru doesn’t let go, not even once. 

 

It is, however, how Hajime ends up at the arcade. 

“What is this,” he says, watching Tooru light up at the sight of an alien toy in the crane game’s box. He’s leashed to him, fingers laced tightly together while Tooru points at it excitedly with his free hand. “Are we really?”

“Yes!” But Hajime is already moving for the crane game--he’s not so bad at it, himself--and only stops when he’s about to run over a small child in his path. 

“Watch it, kid,” he mumbles, and the little boy freezes up before squawking in alarm. “Woah, hey, do I know you?”

Karasuno’s #10 nods furiously, mouth working without producing sound. He’s pale, expression pushed from mere surprise to terror when Tooru looms behind Hajime’s shoulder, grinning. “Ah? Little shortie!” Hajime elbows him in the stomach. Scaring freshmen was a way of life for seniors, but this seemed more like animal cruelty. 

“G-great King!” the kid stammers in response, eyes darting around the arcade. “Wh-what a surprise--”

“Hinata, you dumbass, you can’t just leave someone someplace after getting them through the door--” 

Kageyama-kun looks well, all things considered. He freezes up, just like #10 (Hinata, that’s right, the astounding little decoy from Karasuno) when he realizes it’s Tooru who’s terrorizing him, gives an epic scowl that drags down his entire face. “Oikawa-san.”

“Tobio-chan!” Tooru’s teeth gleam under florescent lights. Hajime resists the urge to roll his eyes while dragging Tooru out of the arcade entirely. “What a _pleasant_ surprise.” His spiking hand is in the distinct danger of being squeezed off.

 

While Tooru and Kageyama-kun are having their little Pokemon staredown, Hinata is already at the crane game trying to fish out a particular toy. His little war cry jolts Kageyama free from whatever astral plane battle he’s having (whatever, Hajime’s seen those Chinese fighting movies) with Tooru and he’s torn, suddenly, between abandoning his rival and upperclassman to chase after the little carrot-headed guy. 

He compromises by bowing stiffly, scowl still on his face, before running off to the crane game. Hajime watches his expression shift from pissy scowl--he’s got to have learned that after they graduated middle school--to childlike fascination. He sighs. “You really couldn’t help yourself there, huh?”

“Waaahhh, shut up, Iwa-chan, that was so uncool,” Tooru cries, throwing up his hands to his face and chewing on his bottom lip. Hajime smacks him, just a little, on the shoulder, before dragging him away to the other side of the arcade. 

 

Weirdly enough, the arcade isn’t big enough for the two of them. Kageyama and Tooru cross wires with an unbelievable frequency: at the shooting games, Kageyama wincing at the blood spatter while Tooru’s grin widens with every zombie kill he scores; at the fighting games, where Hinata actually pivots on his heel when he sees Kageyama’s character hit by a combo Shoryuken attack. He comes up to Hajime with his tail tucked between his legs, and whimpers. 

Hajime lets Hinata lean on the wall next to him, expression forlorn. “I’m glad Kageyama is having fun,” he sighs, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “It’s his first time at an arcade. I’m just here to win a prize.”

“What prize?” Hajime asks, curious despite himself. He tries to block out the sound of Rekkashingeki attacks coming repeatedly from Tooru’s end of the arcade.

“Oh, the crane game here has a limited edition toy this week! My little sister would like it.” Hinata switches on his phone, scrolling through photos until he stops at a character image. “This one, see?”

Hajime studies it intently, and glances over at the Street Fighter console. Still occupied by two idiots. “I think I can see where it is in the box.” And Hinata follows him there like a little puppy, tail wagging.

 

After too many 100-yen coins and broken dreams, Hajime successfully fishes the toy out of the box on his turn. “Wow, senpai,” Hinata breathes, eyes shining. “That’s amazing!”

“It’s nothing,” Hajime shrugs, but he’s a little proud--his crane game skills aren’t too bad, he supposes. “Hope your sister likes it.” (Little Hinata Natsu, at two years old, will probably like anything her hero big brother brings home, but Hajime doesn’t need to tell him that.)

“Thank you very much, senpai!” Hinata bows so enthusiastically he nearly hits his head on the crane game’s console. “Thank you, thank you!” 

“Iwa-chaaan,” Tooru whines, arm snaking up to hug him from behind. His voice is low in his ear. “Were you doing this with shortie all day?”

“You were trying to demoralize your underclassman,” Hajime replies, grinning at the sight of Hinata waving the plush toy’s arm in Kageyama’s face.

“I was _winning_ , thanks.” But when Tooru pouts, it just makes Hajime laugh in his face. He leans his head back on Tooru’s shoulder and lets himself roar with it, holding his stomach.

“Of course you did, dumbass,” he says when his laughter finally peters out. He’s about to continue upbraiding him for it when Hinata darts back, plushie stuffed and overflowing in his backpack.

“Senpai! Thank you for today!” he bubbles, and Tooru grins down at the kid, all teeth again. Hinata flinches, but soldiers on--a choice that Hajime commends him for. “I have to go, um, before my sister’s bedtime! But the next time we meet, and it’s on the court, I won’t go easy on you!”

And it’s Tooru who’s the one laughing at him now, Hinata speeding out of the arcade with Kageyama in tow after giving a set of awkward, clumsy bows. “That little shortie,” he gasps, clinging on to Hajime for support, “Is amazing.”

_It’s Kageyama’s first time at an arcade._ “Yeah, he kind of is,” Hajime agrees, and drags Tooru over to the crane game by the hand. “So are we getting the alien or not?”

 

Tooru coos at the toy on the way home. It has three eyes, four arms, and probably glows in the dark. As far as aliens go, he’s seen uglier.

Hajime isn’t even actually disgruntled--his knack for the game proves well-founded after spending a less humiliating amount of coins and time picking up the alien. It seeps into his tone, even when he says, “You spent our entire date trying to crush little Kageyama.” Tooru looks up guiltily. “Trash is as trash does,” he sighs, but his mouth quirks up at the memory of their goodbye. 

“You say terrible things to me,” Tooru complains, but his voice is light, too. “Ugly creatures only know ugly words.”

“I’ll show you ugly,” Hajime retorts, grinning. “This day was all you.” His grip tightens on Tooru’s hand again, reassuring and comfortable. “I can’t believe you Shoryuken’d him twice.”

“Thrice!” Tooru protests. “And I thought we could spend some quality time together, Iwa-chan. It’s like we don’t see each other at all anymore.”

“I live next to you, attend the same classes as you, and play volleyball with you.” This morning’s complaint slips out from his lips again, Tooru bumping friendly hips with him on the sidewalk. “I also date you? I’m your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Tooru says thoughtfully, still clutching the alien toy. “That’s all true, isn’t it?” 

Hajime can see Tooru’s house--and by extension, his own--from where they are. He’ll probably kiss Tooru goodnight and send him home, or drag him in by the collar and see what he can’t do to him in the privacy of his own room, later. As boyfriends. “Yeah,” and it’s Hajime who’s dragging Tooru by the hand now. “I’m kind of stuck with you.”


End file.
